Canis Ex Machina
by bergundy
Summary: A romance with vampires is doomed on so many levels. Inuzuka Hana, Uchiha Itachi, and their respective baggage. Alternate Universe.
1. After the Fact

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the writing.

**Notes: **Be warned. You'll need to be able to accept, even like, certain clichés (even though I've made a slight effort to deviate from the standard) as well as handle first-person POV (of Inuzuka Hana).

Now, there are elements in this cliché that I personally think have a silly, lasting appeal. I wrote most of the early parts long before the Twilight phenomenon, although the clichés had already existed for years. But as it goes, "about three things I [am] absolutely positive":

First, I did not respect this cliché.

Second – there was a part of me very dissatisfied with how Naruto canon was going, and I really started liking alternate universes then.

And third, I figured, why not bring together two things - The Cliché and Naruto - I indulge(d) in, do not respect, and want to toy with, in one fic?

* * *

**Chapter 1 – After the Fact**

I would only wish the headache I had upon waking on my worst enemies.

Problem was, I didn't know who that might be. The smiling brunette nurse at my bedside didn't look like she had any ideas. Naturally, I asked her what was wrong with me.

"Well, miss, you were in a traffic accident yesterday. Since you were diagnosed with a mild concussion, you family had you spend the night in the hospital."

"But I don't remember any accident." I remembered a little about boba tea, but…

"Short-term amnesia," explained the nurse, her kind face twisting in sympathy. "It should end in a few more hours; worst case scenario, a week or two. Otherwise, you seem to be in great condition."

This did cheer me up. "Thank you for clearing this up."

"You're welcome. Now get some rest. Your husband will be around at eight o'clock tonight."

Right then, I had two options: panic or take deep breaths. I had no memory of this accident, let alone of a husband. Panic struck me as horribly unproductive, so I settled for taking it all in stride.

My _husband _had better explain everything.

Before said spouse visited, though, I had another visitor. She looked calm and melancholy, lady-like in a classic, old-fashioned way. She said she was my in-law, Uchiha Mikoto.

I'd meant to greet her with a smile, but the instant she entered the room, my gag reflex kicked in. I covered that up as severe coughing until I could compose my face. The woman must have wandered into a foul-smelling area en route, but no longer smelled it herself by this time. Sort of like skunk-spray victims, although I didn't think there were any of them in the city.

The nurse, used to being polite in the face of unpleasantness, gave no indication of smelling anything. The hospital was thick with medicinal, laundry, and alcohol odors, with a dash of old pee. Maybe that could deaden the olfactory senses over time.

Resolving to be courteous to my elegant in-law, I held my breath when she sat down by the bed. "Hana dear, how are you feeling?"

"Excellent." The headache had receded somewhat. "Although I'm embarrassed to say, even after lunchtime, that I'm still very hungry."

"You've been on a liquid diet. You had soup this afternoon, didn't you? I brought something – it's not much, but I hope it helps."

Inside the perfect little bento box she had unwrapped were rice, pickled vegetables, and tonkatsu, breaded meat. My mouth filled with saliva. I thanked her and started on the tonkatsu first. As smelly as everything was, Mikoto's thoughtfulness went a long way towards earning my goodwill.

Anticipating my questions, Mikoto revealed details of the accident while I ate. Everything was there, from license plates to car models to street names and the time of day. "Itachi has the photos; we were lucky you came out unharmed aside from the concussion." It'd been _my _car crashing into the back of the other one.

"Then the accident was my fault? I have to make reparations… update my insurance…"

"Normally, yes, but there's no way we can let you do that." Mikoto looked adamant. "Your honeymoon was already delayed once because of my son's job. Now that you say you are well, the entire family believes it's your right to enjoy that time as soon as possible. Fugaku and I will handle everything else."

Her declaration knocked something loose in my memory, but like a particularly deep-rooted baby tooth, it refused to dislodge completely. "At least I should alert my own parents," I tried. Not that I had a clue who they were; I was probing for information and a reaction.

Mikoto's resigned, compassionate expression prepared me for the news. "The nurse told you about the amnesia, Hana? I do hope it'll fade in time. Let's hope for the best. But your parents… don't you remember? You've been an orphan since you were born to a single mother who died in childbirth… you've lived alone all the years before you married Itachi."

A few items she mentioned resonated: single mother, living by myself. As for the rest, I drew a blank. "My… husband is aware of my condition, right, Mikoto?"

"Yes, he is. We're all hoping for your full recovery."

I laid down my chopsticks. "Mikoto, I'd like to go home. If I see some familiar objects, I might recover faster."

She frowned, explaining how my car keys – and the attached home keys – had been temporarily confiscated by the police. I was pleased to learn that Itachi had never gotten a copy of my keys; it fit with my sense of my own personality. Itachi's apartment, Mikoto warned, was not furnished for married life. Apparently, we had been searching for a new home before the traffic accident.

The news disappointed me. "Then I guess I'll wait for him to drop by and discuss it with him."

Mikoto had no objections, but not once in our conversation had she struck me as particularly enthused to be a mother-in-law. After she left, her scent lingered. I wouldn't have forgotten it in a hurry, anyway. Worried that asking for air-freshener would get back to Mikoto, I asked the nurse to open the window. The usual smells of smoke, urban pollution, and cheap food rose to my floor and cleared the air.

This reprieve meant that my husband's odor when he arrived at exactly eight nearly laid me out.

Half of it was surprise that _he _stank. Then I reasoned, maybe Mikoto had visited _him_ before seeing me and acquired some of that smell. Whether it was because he was male, or because his job today had entailed working at a smelly site, the reek was inescapable. I trained myself to take shallow breaths, but every now and then a fresh whiff had me recoiling a little.

Just by how Itachi looked and carried himself in that police uniform, however, I could tell why the pre-amnesia me had married him. He had beautiful eyes – irises the deep, rich color of red wine, lashes that shadowed his cheekbones because of the overhead light. And he had a low, gentle voice, very bracing. If he was my husband, he could help me through this.

I also thought that anyone I married should be able to take blunt honesty. "Itachi, I'm sorry for all this trouble, and I don't want to complain, but… what have you been up to today? That is, where did your work take you?"

"You know much of what I do is classified, Hana." He reached for my hand. The caution in that gesture seemed out of line with our being newlyweds. He sensed this, and his long fingers closed around my bare skin more strongly than I expected.

"Can I be direct with you?"

He nodded.

I shot him a wry smile. "You and Mother-in-law smell really strange. I can't explain it… it's not very pleasant, and I was wondering if you did something or went somewhere today."

After a pause, he said, "You knew about my family's condition when you married me. Did you forget that, too?"

I tilted my head. "I'm sorry. It seems that way."

Itachi leaned towards me. "Some people are more sensitive to our scent than others. It's a miracle you accepted my proposal." His thumb stroked the back of my hand.

He sounded so serious, like he was laying his emotions bare in front of me. "Well," I murmured, "not if you're always this charming. But please remind me – what family condition is that?"

Itachi stroked my hair back, pulling me closer to whisper in my ear: "As it happens, Hana, my family and I are all vampires."

For some reason, I didn't have any trouble believing that. Nor did I question why my immediate, private response was relief at its logic: _Oh, _that's_ why they stink! That makes sense._

It made no sense whatsoever.

"So… you eat blood?"

He withdrew, observing my face. "Yes."

"And nothing else?"

The pause was longer. "Yes."

"And your entire family… well, Itachi, how does your mother know how to make such delicious food then?"

"I think you're ready to come home."

* * *

Mikoto hadn't been lying about Itachi's lair being little more than a bachelor pad; out of consideration for my nose, he brought me there anyway, so that the decaying fruit smells of his collective family and extended family wouldn't overwhelm me.

None of the furniture looked all that expensive, but it had taste and worked well with the room. I had expected dispassionate blue walls and sharp-edged, modern glass tables. Itachi's apartment was full of very dark wood and black, off-white, and burgundy accents.

The hospital had discharged me in the clothes Mikoto had brought as a loan, but I really needed to wash off the Uchiha family scent. There was no avoiding it, but I preferred it not to touch my skin.

"If you don't mind…" I began.

"Take the bathroom. Everything you need is inside." Poor fellow, he must be exhausted after a full day's work, and my clueless person on top of that. On impulse, I slid a comforting hand over his shoulder as I passed, not glancing back to see his reaction. It would be easier on both of us if we stopped tiptoeing around each other.

The shelf in the opaque shower stall offered a selection of masculine products that at least smelled like themselves, not Uchiha. I had plenty to mull over under the stream of hot water.

First, I couldn't imagine why any of the Uchiha brood would bother lying to me about the family; in that case, the vampirism would be outrageous enough. I trusted my gut instinct that they were telling the truth on that count. I also knew, deep down, that I had no problem with the Uchiha _being_ vampires. No, what I really wondered about was motivation. If the Uchiha had no motive to lie about the marriage, then the marriage was probably true, and I probably had consented to marry Itachi; in that case, I'd have to trust my past judgment and work backwards for _my_ motive.

Unless the Uchiha were lying on some other detail, which would reveal a motive for lying about the marriage.

My logic got me nowhere: who would work so hard to get a daughter-in-law – or wife – who couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at you? The vampire – non-vampire relations just complicated the issue.

By the time I got out of the shower, I'd resigned myself to borrowing the towels in the cabinet. Assuming Itachi wouldn't take well to the idea of me rummaging in his room for clothes, I padded to the sitting room.

Someone else was there, talking to Itachi while playing with the remote of the impressive plasma TV opposite the couch. I halted at the entrance out of sight and sniffed. There were _two _guests, actually; one of them I couldn't hear or see. _That_ one, in the adjoining kitchen behind a low partition, smelled younger, while the one with Itachi smelled a little older. Of course, I had nothing in the realms of rationality to explain my certainty. Good thing I had opted to go with the flow from the outset.

One other fact was confirmed: all three were male, Uchiha, and stinky.

Suppressing a sigh, I peeked around the wall to see if I could catch Itachi's attention. He stood up upon seeing me. Despite his swift response, the visitor rose from his seat as well before Itachi could block all of me from view.

My husband – it was still peculiar in my mind to consider this man as such – seemed to understand my request without my saying anything. "Follow me." In a flatter tone that passed for exasperated, he added, "Shisui, go sit down."

I heard the other man chuckle as we traveled the short distance to Itachi's bedroom. "Forgive me, but who is Shisui?"

"One of my cousins. My brother, Sasuke, also came over. I'd introduce you, but…" The pause was eloquent commentary on my state of dress. In a minute, he passed to me a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

I hesitated. "Um, Itachi… do you have anything else I could also borrow?" _Underwear,_ perhaps? Tiny shorts? Even as I struggled with voicing it, I couldn't imagine any sort of underwear he would have that I'd feel comfortable wearing, knowing that, well, it was his.

My face felt suffused with heat; it had probably gone red. I cast my gaze on the innocuous digital alarm clock on the bedside table. "Never mind," I said.

"Are you sure?"

An enlightened monk wouldn't find fault in his even tone of voice. "Yes. I can manage. Thank you."

The back of his knuckles brushed over my cheek, startling me into glancing up. His mouth hadn't so much as twitched, but I sensed a smirk beneath the façade. "Come out when you've changed." He closed the bedroom door behind him.

Holding my breath, I pulled on his clothes – his scent overlaid them thickly – and left the room. By this time, the three males had moved on to the door. I took care to be quiet as I approached.

Itachi's brother was half-arguing, half-reminding him about a family dinner. "Seeing as you're Father's favorite, the least you could do is remember to fit his birthday dinner into your schedule."

"Of course." As an older sibling, Itachi had perfected the art of agreeing in such a way as to irritate his brother further. It was an amusing ploy I recognized… from experience? I rubbed the back of my scalp. That was a river I'd cross when I got there.

"So long, Itachi," said the third male voice – Shisui's. "I'll see you around… and your new wife, too."

"You're f – ing disgusting," Sasuke interjected with real feeling.

"That's what you think."

"I think you were dropped on your head as a baby."

"Just showing appreciation. Isn't that the point of this exercise? Eh, Itachi?"

"Shut up." Itachi had become cold and deadly. "Unless you forgot, you're to treat her as my wife."

"Technically… oh, fine. I'm going. Have a good one." The door closed.

I couldn't help smiling at Itachi's look of aristocratic forbearance. Having witnessed the exchange, I had seen how close they all were beneath the bickering. It gave me an inexplicable pang.

"Hana."

"Hm?"

"Come over here."

I made a face but left the wall. He took my wrists, fingers circling them loosely. His eyes ran searchingly over my face.

"Do you remember anything yet?"

"Nothing definite." I didn't want to lie.

He dropped my wrists. "I can sleep on the couch, if you feel more comfortable that way."

Kicking Itachi out of his own room would only make me feel worse. "No, it's all right. I'm not tired, truth be told. Maybe I'll watch some television until morning."

Almost unconsciously, he gave me a visual once-over, checking for signs of fatigue that belied my words. I didn't believe he would discover any, but for a quicksilver instant, his scent flared with a desire that he snuffed out in its infancy. My lips parted in both amusement and surprise.

"As you wish, Hana." He was terser, determined to give me ample space tonight. "Good night."

"You, too. Sleep well." I watched him withdraw to the bedroom. Unlike Itachi, I didn't see what was hideously wrong about finding my spouse attractive.

* * *

I went to the police station to retrieve my keys even before Itachi had left the flat. To a degree, it was an excuse to avoid reminders of him. My body had adapted slightly to his scent when I slept surrounded by it; it was something else. Thinking your husband is attractive is different when your opinion is confirmed by his leaving the shower shirtless. I wasn't so cowardly as to pretend I was still asleep, but I couldn't meet Itachi's eyes.

The interior of the police station hit me with unexpected déjà vu, so I had high hopes about my own apartment.

Unfortunately, I wasn't going to be able to see it.

There were boxes of stuff in front of the door where my keys had brought me. Not the neatly packaged moving boxes either; these boxes overflowed with everything that someone had tossed inside. Shirt sleeves and jackets, the frame of a lampshade, and tattered drapes had all been piled indiscriminately.

The notice on the door explained it all: Eviction. Plus the locks had been changed.

It annoyed me. Surely amnesia was a valid reason for forgetting the rent?

The notice warned that all my possessions would be removed and destroyed if I didn't reclaim them in three days.

I ran through the call list on the unfamiliar phone I'd retrieved that morning. The landlord's answering machine picked up. He had left for an equatorial island for the month. Thwarted, I searched for any other potentially helpful names, but then decided I didn't remember any of them well enough to risk calling.

Itachi's name was there. I thought he would be busy, but just at that moment, the cell phone vibrated, displaying Itachi's name on the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hana, I'm on break for a few minutes. You had no trouble regaining your keys?"

"No, but…" I explained the eviction. "I have nowhere to store everything."

"Go to my parent's house. I have a large room that's still mine; you can store your possessions there for now." There was a brief silence. "Shisui is off-duty. I'll send him over if you want his assistance. Such as it is."

I laughed. "That would be great. Don't worry, I can handle him. He doesn't seem like a bad person."

"He doesn't know where to draw the line. Very well, he'll be there in half an hour."

"Thank you." And because it seemed like something a wife would say, if she had any affection at all, I added lightly, "I love you."

This time, his silence was rife with something else. When he spoke after a beat, he sounded gentler, quieter. Slightly pitying. "Likewise." He hung up.

Shisui didn't look any more like a cop than he had from my glimpse of him the night before. He assured me that he was, while adjusting the gelled, spiky part of his black hair with surreptitious, typical male vanity. He didn't smell as rotten.

"Did you eat recently?" I asked before I thought better of it.

"Can you tell?"

He smelled fresher. I nodded. "How often…?"

"I eat whenever I'm hungry. That's once or twice a week, or if I take in a lot, once every twelve days." His grin bared clean white teeth. "I only go for criminals. Have you broken the law lately?"

"Not that I know of," I said, which wasn't even funny.

"I regret that Itachi kept us apart the other night. Here, we should be introduced. I'm Uchiha Shisui."

"And I'm – "

"Uchiha – "

"Hana." The lack of a surname dampened my mood. I gestured at the heap of untidy boxes. "I didn't realize I had so much stuff."

"I drove over in a van. I think three trips should do it. Come on."

I hoisted the first large box into my arms. My own strength surprised me.

Itachi had called his mother ahead of time to explain the situation, so Mikoto opened the doors when we showed up. She looked a trifle depressed. When I asked what was wrong, she shook her head. "A sentimental feeling, that's all. Your putting those boxes in my son's room drives home the fact that he moved out." She encouraged Shisui and me to return in the evening to enjoy a potato and meat stew.

"Mikoto, if it's not too personal a question, can I ask why you cook?"

She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. "I find it meditative. Vampires can drink substances other than blood, even if they don't get any nutrients; I wouldn't invite Shisui over for dry solid food. On the other hand, it's wonderful to finally have someone in the family who can appreciate my cooking."

I headed out again in Shisui's company. He claimed to like sitting in diners and watching people eat, and what he did with his time was really his business. As I hadn't eaten enough since the previous two days, I ordered two full meals. Shisui didn't bat an eyelid.

He had a light beer while I ate. Naturally, conversation turned to food. "Sometimes I come across people as high as the Konoha Trade Towers; BACs around 0.30 also taste pretty bizarre... You really don't mind me talking about this?" Suddenly, he looked serious. "You know that I kill?"

It repulsed me, and yet… as people, the Uchiha weren't the worst sort I could think of. "I'm learning how to deal with it." The water condensed on my milk tea slid down the sides in fat droplets. "Could you tell me why your family – Itachi's family – accepts me? Aren't I food?"

My question disconcerted him into swallowing too quickly. He stumbled over his reply. "Not everyone accepted the union immediately. But they could see how badly the two of you wanted it…"

My eyes narrowed. Instinct was frowning in puzzlement. I decided to tackle it from another angle. "And you, do you support the marriage?"

His smirk resurfaced. "Itachi needs a girl to remind him he's male. I'm not as close-minded as the older generation to hate you on principle, based on your species. Can you say the feeling's mutual?"

I felt him exude charm, tugging at my senses like a fisherman reeling in a catch. He left me aware of this on purpose. One minute, the lessened reek of overripe tomatoes pushed at my nose; the next minute, a tide of alluring fragrances washed it away. I smelled the fresh straw of new tatami mats, which I recalled from a long-ago New Year's Day; the subtle, pleasant scent of cologne; a final, indefinable smell, dark and smoky like chocolate fumes, sensual and masculine. Funny, I didn't even like chocolate that much, but it wove a lovely haze around me.

"Is there anything else I can bring you?" The waitress's voice jerked me out of my stupor, even though Shisui hadn't ceased to bombard me. Glancing at her star-struck expression, I concluded that his efforts had drawn her over. To be fair, Shisui had more than enough visual appeal. It was a vampire – or Uchiha – trait.

"Yes." Shisui showed her the beer. "Another one, please?" He relented his assault so that the girl could tear herself away.

I chased the last fragments of udon in the soup. "Do you know that you change your scent?"

Shisui blinked. "Huh, really? Well, I suppose no vampire's ever tried to charm a – charm anyone as sensitive as you are to our odor. Do you prefer it?"

"It's an improvement," I conceded.

We walked past a line of parked motorbikes outside. The sight jogged another memory. "I'd like to ride a motorbike," I said. "I think I had one, once." Shisui looked perturbed.

He dropped me off at Mikoto's so that I could pick out what I needed from my boxes. True to her word, she served me some of her _jaganiku_ stew. Itachi turned up a while later to escort me to his apartment.

"Do they let you off earlier because of your situation?" I asked, holding the bag of necessities I'd refused to let him carry. "You know, amnesiac wife?"

"Perhaps."

When we picked up his mail, he showed me one of the packages. "I had your prescription sent to my address. It's for any aftereffects of the accident."

Anti-trauma and a list of symptoms I didn't have, but I decided I could comply for a week. His arm touched mine when he reached out to press the floor button. With a start, I realized that he had fed recently, too.

"Did Shisui give you any trouble?"

"No, I think you demonize him. He was perfectly well-behaved. He even demonstrated how you guys lure your victims."

"On you?"

I looked up at his softer, vaguely dangerous voice. "Oh, don't get mad."

"It was inappropriate, considering who you are."

"Well, you can try it yourself. I don't mind." Just to tease him, I leaned against his side, tilting my head. His arm wrapped around me, and abruptly, the atmosphere in the elevator mutated. All my muscles tensed. I wanted to arch my neck against his mouth – which, after I remembered that was the point, was an urge that died swiftly once Itachi stopped.

The experience rattled me. Shisui had imposed simple attraction. Itachi had done something much stronger and predatory, similar to hypnosis. Coming to terms with it stirred up unexpected anger. I pushed him away and waited coldly for him to unlock the door.

He pressed his lips to my temple at the entryway. "Did it frighten you?"

Of course, he knew. "Sorry. I really hated it."

"Isn't that what Shisui did?"

I avoided his eyes in favor of carrying my bag of things to the sitting room. "No, he made me feel… attracted."

"That's not how we hunt." Without needing to check his scent or posture, I could tell Itachi was angry. I accidentally met his eyes and was caught by that scalding red glare. His voice remained flat and controlled. "I'll talk to him."

"What do you use it for, then?" I asked.

"To find a mate."

* * *

Mikoto called to talk to me about the benefits of hot springs while Itachi was washing up for bed. I had no idea why she had hot springs on her mind until I asked Itachi.

"She and Father arranged our honeymoon at a hot springs resort. We're to leave this weekend."

His hair was down, and it looked so silky that it distracted me from immediately responding. "That's nice… _this _weekend? Should I prepare anything?"

"Clothes for three weeks. Everything else, Mother has anticipated." He let me run my fingers through his hair.

"Mikoto is quite amazing, isn't she?"

An ironic smile curved his pale mouth. "It was always her wish that I marry."

I could bet that she had wanted him to marry in the species. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you earlier," I said, apropos of nothing.

"No," he agreed. I slapped his shoulder. He moved out of reach; I had the feeling he was smirking inside, but I wanted to be sure he had put his bad mood behind him.

"Please don't be angry at Shisui."

"I will be if you insist on defending him."

I short him an arch glance that he wasn't looking to see anyway. "He only finds me attractive."

The stare he gave me was mildly irritable. "So do most men who look at you." He didn't seem to realize what he had said.

"And you don't. Find me attractive," I clarified. "My own husband…"

I was only half-serious, but he came around the bed and put his hands on my upper arms. I forgot about his smell when he bent his head. His proximity overwhelmed me. "I found you attractive when it was still dangerous to do so."

"It isn't now?" I smiled at him, then twisted out of his hold. "Can you indulge me for a moment, _dear?_ How did we meet?" Beneath that cajoling tone, I had a real need to hear the answer.

Itachi sat on the bedcovers beside me. "The first few times I saw you, you didn't know me. You caught my scent and hated it, so you kept your distance and never truly saw me. Vampires have better vision than your kind. I saw everything about you."

I looped an arm around my knee. "So, then what?"

"I didn't dream of taking your blood, not even once. It would have been unnecessarily dangerous, with your instinctive aversion. I still did the rounds in those earlier months, and I saw you now and then. We didn't talk until you came to the police station to turn in a wallet you had picked up."

The story confused me. I was sure there were pieces of truth, in the same way I sensed Itachi's odd fascination behind that calm veneer. And that wary, never fully relaxed guard of his seemed deliberate. As if _I_ were capable of threatening him.

I got off the bed, restless and trying to shake off the feeling of unease. "Thanks for telling me. You must be tired now. You should sleep."

He raised his eyebrows in an achingly familiar way. "You don't believe me." When he stood, he had several centimeters on me. "Fair enough. I wouldn't either."

I braced my hands on the side dresser behind me. "This isn't working, Itachi. Can you tell me something true?"

I had nowhere to go when he moved closer, trapping me between him and the dresser. "Truthfully, Hana, you once threatened my brother on behalf of someone you cared deeply about." His breath ghosted over my lashes. "That is why we are together."

This was Itachi as he really was, stripped of the illusion of tame matrimony. Perversely, I liked him better this way.

I reached up to bring his face within kissing distance, and told him so.

* * *

I could have warned the Uchiha that packing me and Itachi off with only each other was a bad idea. But I didn't. Neither did I inform Mikoto that the lie of our supposed marriage was fraying like silk drapes in the paws of an angry cat.

I invaded Itachi's personal space by saturating the flat with air freshener that sickened even me after two hours. I moved the few items in the bathroom to different cupboards. I opened all the windows when he clearly preferred them closed.

In retaliation, he did… nothing. Rather, he had this _expression_, telling me that he was being the mature one. It drove me insane.

And we were still going on our belated honeymoon. Together.

I hoped Mikoto didn't mind how many pieces her son returned in.

In a bizarre turn of events, I really did want Itachi's attention. Even as I tried to make him go off the deep end, I wanted him to see me as a woman on my own merits, not just for the convoluted reasons he had for complying with the farce in the first place. Maybe that was just my ego complaining, though, because I wanted something similar when Shisui popped in once – Sasuke seemed determined to stay away – and his flirting soothed my spirits.

Two evenings before we left for the resort, and after Itachi had once again evicted his cousin from the premises, he gave me a long, measured look. I had sat down lengthwise on the couch with the small advertising packet in my hands. My eyes were on the photos, but I could feel that Itachi was upset. After almost a week of martyred impassivity, that was something.

I met his eyes, and immediately a wave of heat hit me, beginning at my throat, the insides of my wrists, and my thighs. I had appreciated his gracefulness and good looks now and then, but never like this. He smelled headier than Shisui, male and dangerous and bloody. I had a hunch that most people didn't get off on that last aspect of his scent. Maybe that was what made me a freak of nature who associated with vampires. I could only think: fresh blood equaled successful hunting. Successful hunting indicated competence, which was good.

"Is this what you'd prefer?" I heard Itachi ask in a colorless tone. "For me to use that on you all the time?"

"No," I snapped. My reaction was mortifying. My blood raced urgently; I wanted his skin against mine, his heat beside me. "Stop. Please stop." Even my voice wavered under the onslaught. "Itachi, I_ don't_ want to go to the resort."

He took a step towards me, not relenting. I gripped the cushions; my nails dug deep enough to tear. "It's only for three weeks," he said at last.

"I'm sorry, but I'd really prefer not to."

The waves of longing subsided. He leaned over me, one hand braced on the arm of the couch. "Do you need to go to the hospital? It's normal to be upset." All uttered without inflection.

I hurled the pamphlets at the wall. Their laminated edges nearly cut Itachi's cheek. "What about this is normal?" I wasn't _upset._ I was frustrated, tired of complacently obeying The In-Laws. Whatever I'd been before the accident, it couldn't have been a submissive wife.

But then I realized that explaining all of my doubts to Itachi, whom I did not particularly trust (at all), would not be the height of tactical wisdom.

"I'm sorry." I relaxed my shoulders, letting my energy deflate. "I just wish… you've all been so patient but I still can't remember a thing."

Would he buy the lie? Possibly, he'd overlook it, if that was real pity shading his eyes – if he had a shred of decency, killer though he was, to allow me some dignity. He was too sharp for the falsehood to go completely undetected.

"It would reassure both my mother and father if you went with me."

"Fine. All right." I flashed him the best smile I could manage, and he bent over to kiss me on the lips for the first time that I could recall.

It was far from unpleasant. Still, as he moved away I found myself thinking without much hostility, _I'm going to have to kill you._


	2. Just a Warning

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the writing and whatever you don't recognize from Naruto.

**Notes: **Where y'all find out that this is an even bigger cliché than you assumed. _**POV changes in every chapter.** _Just read carefully. :)

Also, apologies for both the late update and for those who don't like POV switches. I think this is a more effective way to tell all sides of the story (i.e. why delay a revelation that is pretty obvious and pretend it's surprising when the amnesiac finally gets it?), but I completely understand.

More of the "unique" characteristics of the vampires in this alternate universe is revealed here.

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Just a Warning**

The music was deafening.

Every beat throbbed like a living pulse through the walls, jolting both hearts in my chest. Not the world's most pleasant feeling, I'll admit, but after a long day, a nightclub was the best place for a quick meal. It wasn't unlike a fast food restaurant in that respect, with the added bonus – or downside, if you were bored – of mostly safe hunting. Werewolves didn't tend to frequent noisy places packed with people, because their dulled senses made them feel insecure. The last time one had walked in was seven years ago, when I had taken Itachi out to hunt his own meals in the night scene for the first time.

"So, what do you do for a living?" asked the blonde who had just slid onto the bar stool next to mine. Her skirt showed off unusually long legs that ended in five-inch stilettos, not that she had seemed to need the height. Powder-blue eyes met mine with bold interest.

Normally, I had no complaints when dinner walked right up to me, although I hadn't even turned on the charm yet. Tonight of all nights, though, I wanted some time to myself first. So I laughed, watching the girl's confident expression waver. "Just a thought, sweetheart – go back to the entrance and get yourself a stamp."

She recoiled. "H-how did you know?"

I had to concede that she hid it better than most underage clubbers, but she also cracked too easily on the first guess. "You rub the back of your hand too often, as if you're grateful something isn't there. You look around with a wide smile when you think no one's watching – and as delightful as this place is, no one's that delighted just to get in." She looked more and more crestfallen as I talked, until I added, "And, ah, I've had to buy some flowers from your mother's shop before, and the resemblance's pretty obvious between her and her teenage daughter, Yamanaka Ino."

"Oh."

I smiled, tilting my head to indicate her exit. "You might want to be more careful about choosing your target. It might help if you hadn't picked a police officer."

The girl looked more than a little embarrassed now, scooting off the stool as if it burned her. Three feet away, though, she marched back with the air of someone who had resolved to ask a question, no matter the cost to her dignity. "What's _your_ name?"

"Officer Shisui," I said obligingly. "You want to take my name down?"

"You don't look like a cop."

"That offends me."

Returning my grin, she left the nightclub looking much happier.

"That was very nice of you, officer," remarked the bartender with a sly smile. Kurenai was a fairly attractive human, with long, wavy black hair and sweeping lashes. Although she had given me and some of my relatives appreciative glances before, there was always an element of restraint. She had a good instinct for self-preservation, and I was fond enough of her to leave her off the wine list.

"I'm off-duty. I would have let her go on principle." Teasing the girl was only a bonus.

"I heard a policeman is never off-duty." She glanced at the doorway as another group of people walked in. In another thirty minutes, _Hokage _would be at its peak hour, and Kurenai would have no time to chat.

"This one is," I retorted, giving her a rakish smile.

She smiled, but warned me, "I have a boyfriend now."

"He's never off-duty, is he?"

Kurenai sighed. "Maybe for one or two hours this week, he will be." She had told me, on a previous occasion, that Asuma worked at the Konoha General Hospital. "Good thing I also keep crazy hours, huh?"

I nodded, nursing the drink I had yet to actually taste.

"Well, I'll stop bothering you with my babbling. If I don't talk to you again, have a good one, Shisui." She took an order from another newcomer to the bar and got to work. Alone in the crowd of humans, I thought of how I would carry out my uncle's latest orders. _Keep an eye on him. I'm giving him another chance, but he needs watching. You'll do it, Shisui. You're closest to him after his brother, and Itachi's too protective of Sasuke not to notice that kind of scrutiny from _him. _But you – you can make any excuse to drop by._

Ever since the shit show that had been the last great offensive thirteen years ago, Fugaku and the rest of the Uchiha elders had changed tack in favor of caution. Where Itachi had been blooded at around six or seven, Sasuke, his little brother, hadn't been allowed to hunt for his own meals until he turned ten.

If the werewolves had tamed themselves to blend in with the far more numerous human society, the Uchiha went straight for the important positions. Fully half of the city police force was staffed by vampires in our lineage, and we had made significant headway in the Konoha government as well. Recently, a clandestine project had begun for the rehabilitation of individuals who had proven dangerous to the peace. To the human public, that meant providing counseling and other resources for sex offenders, law breakers, etcetera. In reality, it entailed kidnapping young werewolves, shooting them up in repeated sessions with a powerful, amnesia-inducing drug, and creating fake lives for them. Inuzuka Kiba, a not particularly bright werewolf who spent his school days brawling, had fallen into our hands like a heaven-sent gift. His sister, Hana, had been roped in a little differently, but it was all thanks to her brother.

Oh, if she had her memory, she would be _pissed._

It made me smirk to think of the promise she had made the first time we'd met, thirteen years ago.

* * *

It would not have been a good day for any werewolf who crossed my path. The day before, I had lost everyone in my immediate family; other Uchiha had lost a limb here, an eye there. So when I saw the werewolf staggering around at two a.m. with blood streaming from his throat, I didn't think twice.

He paused next to a closed shop front. His fingers smeared blood across the glass over the display; he'd traveled a good distance, given that, in the district where most of the fighting took place, the shops all had protective metal coverings. It was obvious that he was all but done in, with little energy to shift form. Suddenly, he lifted his head and growled from the back of his throat.

I stepped out of the shadows, sharing a smirk with my younger cousin. "Well, Itachi, now we know why werewolves travel in packs… they stumble right into their deaths when walking alone." In a more carrying voice, I said, "Looks like some restaurant put out his trash a day early. Don't you know there's a war going on?" My laugh rang out in the stagnant, pre-dawn quiet.

"He's not alone," said Itachi.

The werewolf shifted, and now I could see a small arm and a little face peeking through the gap between his body and the wall. "Little ticks." His eyes glowed, scornful as they met our scarlet. "You're outside of your 'safe zone,' too."

"Safe zone?" I repeated. "When you and those filthy humans have just burned out one of our havens! You're mad if you think you'll be safe anywhere, ever again."

"I have good friends among those humans you call 'filth.' I shall never have friends among unworthy, despicable monsters like vampires."

"You're the murderer here, you self-righteous prick!"

"Don't talk to my dad like that!" snarled the little werewolf. Her young voice was shrill with anger.

Itachi and I crossed the street at a leisurely pace. "Murderer," I said. "My father's blood is on your teeth. My mother's blood on your claws. Did you stop to think the woman whose throat you tore out had a son? Did you ever imagine where _your_ daughter might be in the future?"

And in a movement as quick as a scorpion's strike, I lunged, yanked the werewolf child from behind her hopelessly injured father, and withdrew to where Itachi was standing.

The wounded man stared, aghast. I knew how it must have looked to him – as if my image had blinked and, by some horrific miracle, reappeared on the second beat with his hands clasped around the child's neck. I could see some of what he was feeling on his contorted face, and I grinned wider.

"What's the best way to kill a little werewolf puppy?" I mused. The little captive clawed at my hands, annoying me into giving her a punch in the midsection that made her curl up like a prawn.

A snarl ripped out of her father's throat. "Let her be! She's too young. She was never on the raid."

I increased pressure on the base of the girl's neck until she whimpered. "Why is she traveling with you?"

The werewolf was silent. Meanwhile, Itachi, who would have been of a height with the little werewolf if she were on her feet, stalked around to observe her. Her eyes darted suspiciously to his face, unable to turn her head. At this, her father snapped, "Get away from her, you foul little parasite!"

As if my cousin would have listened. I laughed. "Answer my question, and then try asking politely. Maybe he'll consider it."

The werewolf struggled to speak past his hate. "She was bringing me home. I was attacked just after the raid, and she found me."

"Oh, so you _were _there," I said in mock surprise. "Excellent! You can lead us home, too," I told the werewolf I had caught, shaking her for good effect. She winced but didn't cry out again, even when my nails broke her skin.

"Take me in for questioning. Try your luck with me! My daughter knows nothing of our battle plans. She's not of age."

I rolled my eyes. "As if I'd let this one go when she keeps you wrapped around my finger."

"Go ahead, kill me!" The little werewolf threw at me.

"No!" Her father took a half-step forward, freezing when my cousin's eyes snapped to him. Itachi had always had uncanny eyes. The werewolf leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

"I'm worthless," said the one dangling from my grip. "As long as my little brother's alive, you don't have anything to hold over us. He's going to rip you apart!"

I narrowed my eyes, adopting a serious voice. "You're only… seven?"

"Eight!"

I feigned bemusement. "And your _little _brother is…?"

"He won't always be little, you moron!"

I raised her even higher. She snapped her teeth at me. "You're right. I should kill you right now before you get any –"

There was a roar of wind. Something huge and black surged forward – the werewolf, with ravening jaws and sharp yellow teeth bearing down on us. I sidestepped, yanking the little one along, knowing that my cousin would take care of it. The giant wolf landed one step to the right and behind us. Then, with hardly a sigh, he collapsed on his side.

The little one screamed. "Dad!" She renewed her writhing to escape.

"Shut up, you." I nodded to Itachi. "Nice work."

"He was already dying."

The little werewolf subsided, glaring. "What's _your _name?" she demanded.

"Shisui, why?"

"My name is Inuzuka. Inuzuka Hana."

"Well, this is pleasant in it? You're more polite than your old man. But I don't really care what your name is."

Hana's lips lifted from her teeth. "You will. I'm going to kill you, Mr. Shisui."

The transformation happened so fast that I only thought I felt the fluid melding of cloth and skin into a thick pelt too slippery to hold. As I lost my grip, her head whipped around and sank several vicious teeth into my palm. Swearing, I watched the grey shape disappear down an alley. "Shit! Shit, that was…" She'd moved so fast that it was like there had been three of her. "What the hell, Itachi, why didn't you do something?"

"She was telling the truth."

Sometimes I didn't understand my cousin at all. Sucking the blood from the puncture marks, I noted resentfully that I needed to hunt again. "Huh?" At least the older werewolf was accounted for, but as Itachi had pointed out, he'd have died anyway. It was highly unsatisfying.

"She has a little brother."

I groaned in exasperation. "And that inspired your sympathy? Look, Itachi, this'll come back to haunt us."

Itachi was looking down the street as if his eyes could pierce through brick and shadow. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

Two days before Itachi was to leave for his farce of a honeymoon, or what was really a trial run of the rehabilitation project, I dropped by his flat, ostensibly to deliver some last minute directions from Fugaku. It was nothing he hadn't heard before, and as I rattled them off from where I lounged on his couch – Hana had gone to the bathroom – Itachi cut me off.

"I don't like what you're doing."

Itachi was generally a bit harder to rile than this, even if it was easier than most people thought. I tossed his TV remote up and down, watching the motion. "Do you think she's put on weight already? I did see her finish off two lunch specials by herself, and you know how Ichiraku's beef bowl is." I glanced up. "I could stop buying her food, if that's what you want."

"You're not doing anyone a favor," he said, catching the remote before it reached my hands on its descent. He set it on the TV table, so that I would have to get up for it.

"How so? I'm embracing our little project, while you're being the most awkward newly-wed ever to grace this earth." When he glared at me – not even at a quarter of the power he could manage, but enough to convey his ire – I held up my hands. "All right."

"How much before you think you've paid her back for biting your hand when she was eight?" Itachi asked quietly.

Brushing past him to the kitchen area, I considered my next words. "You know, Itachi, I'm just here as a friend." Out of curiosity, I checked the fridge. There wasn't much in there, nor in the freezer; certainly none of the blood bags that humans always seem to think we'd store for emergencies. Preserved blood had already lost what we needed out of it, if the artificially-added anticoagulants didn't already make that clear. There was, however, a lot of ice and a pitcher of tea, presumably for Hana. The summer heat wave didn't affect us as badly, but I was sure Hana and the rest of her pack – none of whom she had contacted yet, according to Inabi and Yakumi – were suffering.

"I know Father is keeping an eye on me."

I straightened, closing the fridge door. Did he realize that I was one of the main surveillance detail? "Yeah, surprising, right?" I snorted. "You can't blame him, though. You haven't exactly tried to smooth things over." In case that sounded too accusing, I came around the low partition and conceded, "Granted, you haven't done anything crazy for seven years. This is your last test, you see."

He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. "And you are part of it." I didn't deny it. "Get out, Shisui. I'll see you… after."

I saluted him, turning on my heel. "Yeah. Tell Hana I wish you both a… safe trip." Itachi knew he was under surveillance.

He just didn't know how many pairs of eyes were watching.


	3. Hell Breaks Loose, Part I

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the writing, and it should go without saying that I don't support any of this. These characters are not model citizens.

**Note: **This chapter has been sitting 90% finished on my hard-drive for a while. I'm _not_ holding chapters hostage for reviews. I promise. But any "update" concerning my fics that shows someone out there is reading does go a long way. :'D

You may have already guessed who would narrate this chapter. Also, POVs will start rotating back after this chapter to ones that you may be more interested in..

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Hell Breaks Loose, Part I**

Picture this:

You're sitting somewhere that's so dull it could be a classroom, minus the chalkboards – or white boards, if you went somewhere slightly better than Konoha East High – and rows of desks. Behind the next door is the guy whose face you could probably tear off in a fair fight. Only he won't let you near him because he's too chicken.

Imagine you've wanted to slug him in the face really, really badly for maybe a month.

I could smell exactly where my jailer was sitting in the next room. In my room, there was only me, a table, and a high-backed chair with arm rests. Before anyone thinks this was all done out of consideration, I have to say that the metal cuffs around my neck and wrists really don't support that idea.

They kept the lights on, of course. I was sitting under these disgustingly bright lights all the time. I had no idea how long it had actually been, but twenty days was a low estimate, honestly.

Two times a day, whoever's job it was to feed me walked in with a side of chicken. Not only was it usually cold and raw, it was also very bad meat. I demanded red meat once and nearly bit the hand off the vampire trying to force-feed me. Then I didn't get any food at all, until something else must have happened. After that, all the guards changed and I had meat again. Still raw chicken. They kept on putting crap in it, though.

Early on, there were already times when I knew they had done something to me. Usually, the fact that one of them would come in to talk, oozing insincerity – this would be when I'd wake up in a comfortable bed, like in a hospital ward, only smellier, if you can believe it – kind of tipped me off.

Because I _never _get sick. Ever. I don't think they could even create a fake memory of it. Hearing about it didn't make it feel familiar like hearing about how I went to high school or picked up some of those welts on my knuckles from random fights. The man who'd been trying to talk to me looked stunned when I asked him what it meant to have a fever. This expression, like a _Wow, you are one dumb shit_ sort of look, passed over his face. He tried to give me pills and advised me to rest up so I could get better.

I tossed him back the bottle. "I don't need these. I'm fine. I feel fine."

"Well, Kiba…"

I tuned him out after that, in favor of figuring out stuff like _Who the hell is Kiba and why does it sound _right _to me? I would never tell this patronizing asshole my real name. I should get out of here._

Only I'm probably not good at hiding my thoughts, because the guy pounced on me while someone else jammed a needle into my arm while I was struggling with the food tray propped over the bed.

After around the third or fourth time, they quit the hospital gig, which they had never been good at, and introduced me to the chair room.

"Your interior decorator ripped you guys off," I noted as they hauled me into one of the elevators in the detention center. There were dozens of them, pale, black-eyed, and dark-haired, and there were monitors set up for all the cameras I couldn't begin to find.

"I hope you find this more to your liking," sneered one of the four who had shoved me into the chair. His tag told me his name was Uchiha Inabi. Incidentally, I thought I remembered him from one of my hospital mornings.

"It sucks," I told him.

He punched me in the ear. I bolted to my feet and charged at him – or I would have, but I was securely cuffed to a chair that had been fused to the ground or something.

That was the start of a beautiful relationship. Too bad they switched him out before I could bite off his right hand properly.

The way they acted around me – back when the guards were a bit more careless, i.e. before that idiot dared to try force-feeding – I learned that my strength surprised them at times. Once, they brought in an old guy with grey hair that stuck out of his head at a weird angle to look at the cuffs on the chair. "Mr. Yashiro" looked stunned when he saw how the metal had warped. Stunned, and even a little wary.

I was never left completely alone. Lately, though, the guards outside had been taking longer shifts. They started talking again when they traded off, maybe a couple of words in passing, wrapping up as they opened the door to give me one of my cold chicken dinners.

And then, around ten days ago, the drugs started wearing off. It stopped mattering if the chicken tasted funny - whatever they put in it no longer worked. I had built up some resistance, and I was figuring out more every day.

They, on the other hand, were getting more careless.

* * *

I had just about had it by the twenty-first day. That was already way too long to spend thinking about what a moron I had been. But how was I supposed to know that threatening some pasty-faced asshole in my year could land me in prison? That was what you got for being a model student – or at least, this was what I'd tell everyone when I got out.

It would've pissed anybody off to see how crowds parted for Uchiha Sasuke in the narrow hallway between classes. Everyone else had to shove through glares and backpacks, holding his breath against the infernal stink, but no, not him. He strolled through like a prince in a flower garden. Had his own worshippers, too, like that loud-mouthed blond bimbo, Ino, and her shadow, Sakura. I would never go for girls like that. Just saying.

Uchiha sent out these signals as if he didn't know what he was doing and then acted like he didn't care for the attention he got. Or if he really didn't know what he was doing, he was kind of too stupid to exist.

I'd reached that conclusion by the middle of my second year in high school. He might be excused for not noticing Neji, who, being a year above us, didn't cross our paths very often, but the vampire never noticed anything odd about me or the one other Hyuuga at Konoha East, Hinata, even though we were in the same year and enrolled in most of the same classes.

I had decided the day Hinata and I met in homeroom that I'd look out for her, even if she hadn't belonged to another werewolf family. We had to stick together. So I guess it only became a problem when she developed a crush on Uchiha's equally stupid human friend, Uzumaki Naruto. Uzumaki , the former mayor's kid, was a loud kind of stupid, not the stick-up-his-ass variety that his bloodsucking buddy was. For some reason, Hinata really took to that, and I was getting worried.

When I saw what was happening, I took her aside during our lunch breaks to warn her. "You know, Uzumaki's kind of close to that Uchiha creep."

Hinata nodded, tapping her forefingers together in that way she does when she's uncomfortable. A flush was spreading over her normally pale face. "Y-yeah, I know. But Kiba… I- I _don't _think he-he likes Uchiha Sasuke… that way." Her voice trickled to a mumble. She looked redder than ever.

It took me a moment to get how she had misunderstood me. "Whoa, _not _what I meant." Whether or not that was true made no difference to Hinata's safety, though. And Uzumaki was pretty oblivious to everything aside from opportunities for bad pranks, so it wasn't like he'd defend her from anything. "I'm just saying…" I fisted my hair, feeling exasperated and on edge. "Can't you find someone else to like?"

She shook her head miserably. "N-Naruto's really nice to me… I c-can't help it."

Knowing Hinata, Uzumaki had probably won her over by retrieving her pencil one time and grinning. Not a lot of people can see past Hinata's shyness and treat her the way she deserves. "I guess you can't do anything about it. Just – well, try to stay out of their way. Please? Does your cousin know about this?"

She bit her lip. Obviously not.

I let it go. If it reached Neji's ears, the whole thing might have spiraled out of control and her strict parents would have pulled her out of Konoha East. And I'd have missed her.

Okay, so I didn't regret doing whatever I did to get locked up by a crazyass police force of vampires. But the fallout was my fault.

* * *

The full moon was coming up, which I'd be able to tell even if they had dumped me in a basement fifty stories below ground, and I had yet to receive my daily dose of sedatives. Basically, I was feeling more awake than I'd been for ages.

The guy who was supposed to bring my food paused at the door to have a chat with the guard. Neither of them sounded happy, which was great. A few minutes into the conversation, and they seemed to forget I could hear every word.

"'Promising'? It's a complete waste of time! The only way to deal with these animals is to put them down."

"It's not for us to decide," said my jailer. "Besides, if she gives him any trouble, _he _can certainly handle it."

"If he decides he wants to behave," scoffed the first one. _Ah. _I thought I'd recognized it. It was Old Man Yashiro again. "I don't trust that brat."

"We can trust Shisui."

"Shisui. I suppose he has a good head on his shoulders. We tend to agree about what's necessary. Unfortunately, that means Fugaku won't be likely to put him on the surveillance team that's going with them."

I beamed at Yashiro when he walked in, baring all my teeth. "Hey, cheer up, old man. I'm sure _some _of your relatives have an uglier mug than you."

I knew he'd check the cuffs again. I gripped the arm rests so that he'd miss how they'd indented where my fingers closed around them.

Without a word, he picked up the chicken and started tearing off a bloody leg.

That was when I got up, chair and all, and bashed my forehead into his nose.

* * *

I felt like I could run forever, do anything, be anything. I had never felt better in my life.

I'd figured out the way out by tracking Yashiro's scent in reverse – the guard didn't even know what hit him when I barreled out of the room – and my nose warned me whenever anyone was turning the corner. Not many people hung around this part of the basement, though. I didn't blame them. It was kind of unpleasant.

After the initial, heart-pounding elation, I found the door to a stairway. Just as I reached the first floor, going by the tiny window that looked out on the loud, sunlit street that was Konoha's Broadway, a screeching alarm blasted my ears. Someone had noticed me on the cameras or found Yashiro or something. Before they could lock down all the doors, I dashed through the exit onto the first floor.

Straight into someone carrying a thick stack of files.

Paper flew everywhere, filling my vision. Fighting for balance, I charged through on sheer momentum. Finally, I was somewhere familiar! Somewhere above-ground. I could smell the exit, the stench coming out of the exhaust pipes of cars loitering by the curb, cheap fried foods, discarded cigarette butts, _humanity_. I had arrived at the back of the police station.

Just a little farther!

With a roar, I shoved away the arms that were suddenly reaching for me. The overhead light reflected off a polished black barrel that I saw just in time to duck. The bullet whizzed past me and hit the glass. It was probably bulletproof stuff, because it didn't shatter. The vampires would probably squeeze money out of the mayor to pay for that. Oh well, not my problem!

But I was slowing. Someone flung a mug full of hot liquid in my face, and a few flecks lashed my cheeks despite my raised arm. Hands were closing around my shoulders, grabbing at my hair. I looked around wildly but didn't see anyone other than policemen and a stuffy-looking, grey-haired biddy wearing a pink hat with a really wide brim and a faded yellow cardigan who was sitting in a chair by the door.

"Hey!" I shouted to nobody in particular. "_Some help here!_"

As if I had planned it, the old lady surged to her feet and flung her hat like it was a saucer. Its surprisingly hard brim – grey hair and all - smacked one of my captors in the face. His grip slackened, and I took the chance to elbow away another restraining hold and make the last few meters to the door.

"Go on," said the lady, giving me a rough shove in the back. "I'll catch up."

I glanced up at her dark eyes and manic grin as I passed. I knew her! "_Anko_?" My memory was still a little fuzzy.

"Oh, and between you and me, you should check yourself into a hospital."

It was a good idea to hide in plain sight, and we had family friends at Konoha General. "Thanks!"

I ran out and slowed down once I had joined the mass of pedestrians crossing the street, leaving the veteran hunter to do her work.

Minutes later, a bright blaze of heat swept over my back. Screaming rent the air. I turned, one arm raised to protect my face from the rubble showering down in a cloud of dust and smoke. Beside me, pedestrians pulled out their phones to snap pictures of the wreckage.

Anko had blown up the front of the police station.

* * *

"This is war!" I said loudly.

Asuma waved hurriedly for me to lower my voice.

Right. The curtain barely gave us any visual privacy. It wasn't exactly soundproof. "_They f – ing kidnapped my sister?"_

"We still don't know if she's been brainwashed or kept under drugs. Don't do anything rash before consulting the rest of your clan, kid."

I glared up at him from my seat. Ostensibly, Sarutobi Asuma was this great, capable doctor in Konoha General who was giving me a checkup. In reality, I could snap this powerful-looking man in half. I could bet he wouldn't sound so calm if the vampires had taken someone _he_ cared about – Kurenai, for instance.

But maybe that was unfair. Asuma had been a family friend for years, and he could get into a lot of trouble for the things he'd done for us – was still doing for us. Like purging my system of the rest of the drugs, ordering scans for me to see if he'd missed things like suspicious implants … he was picking out a tag that had been imbedded in my left arm, and his anesthesia really didn't do the job. I was crying a little inside, but honestly? I was also kind of pissed. Especially after he'd caught me up.

"That's a stupid reason. Those drugs didn't work on me and they wouldn't work on Hana." My memory still wasn't completely ok, but for the most part, I knew what I needed to.

"She hasn't reached out to anyone in the network. Aburame's been trying to monitor calls and texts from the 15th Precinct, but we have nothing so far. It's possible that she's already aware of the situation but has her own reasons for keeping silent."

"Even _if _those drugs worked," I allowed, "they'll stop working pretty soon. It's almost the full moon!"

Asuma pulled down my sleeve and took the tray with the bloody tag to the counter. "Are werewolves really stronger on those nights?"

"Huh?" Disliking the height difference, I got up from the chair and paced. He looked up from cleaning his instruments.

"I mean," He said in a measured tone, "Will that give your sister enough of an advantage to break out of this trap when she has to? Since by now, your enemies must also be well aware of the timing."

I shrugged. Bad idea – my arm throbbed. "I guess, but they didn't really manage to stop _me._"

A wry smile lit on Asuma's face. "That's because Anko decided it was time to spring you out. She plotted it all out, you know – escalating street violence, making them think we were focusing on getting your sister out instead of you…"

"Why?"

Asuma leaned back against the counter, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "Because Hana's older than you and she's been involved in the fighting much longer. She would know more about the general strategy… in theory, anyway. But in doing things this way, we've just made it harder to get her out."

"So why help me first instead?"

"Because Hana told us to, if it came down to choosing. She stayed away from most of the important meetings from then on to make herself a useless hostage, just in case she got captured herself."

"What now?" I demanded. I was out of prison, but the euphoria had died. What was the point of being free if I didn't _do _anything?

My stomach growled. Time to hit the cafeteria?

"I've called Kotetsu. He should be around to pick you up in a quarter-hour – needs to finish driving his current passenger to the airport."

My heart leapt, then sank. "Why should I go home anyway? They won't let me into the meetings or any of the planning."

"Who knows? They might this time."

I glanced up. Asuma didn't look sympathetic, exactly, but he knew what to say to make people feel better. Maybe that was why all those patients in the waiting room were holding out for him even though there were two other doctors on clinic duty. "Yeah, maybe."

But when he spoke again, his expression had darkened. "When you do go, make sure to pass this on to Tsume. Word from Kurenai is that the Uchiha may be moving your sister out of Konoha entirely."

I swallowed the curse that threatened to escape. They could hide her anywhere in the countryside. And now that they knew the drugs hadn't worked on _one_ werewolf, the chances of my sister surviving the trip at all were slim.

"Yeah," I said bleakly. "I'll tell that to Mom."


End file.
